Cor et Domum
by dr-keogh
Summary: Three months after Lofty's left Holby, he arrives on Dylan's doorstep.
1. Chapter 1

"This is Ben Chiltern, thirty-four, complaining of abdo and chest pain. Arrived on Dr Keogh's doorstep about half an hour ago, appears to have attacked and beaten up quite badly. GCS of 11 on arrival but rose to 14 in transit, sats at 97 percent. He's had Entonox on route but refused morphine or any other pain medication. Dylan says he looked either really drunk or drugged up when he arrived, but we've been unable to get anything more out of him."

Lofty's hand shoots out between the bars at the side of his bed, grabbing Dylan's hand and holding it in a vice like grip. Dylan looks around nervously, wary of who may be watching, but the only person to notice seems to be Zoe, who just gives Dylan an understanding look before starting her assessment.

"I want an urgent head CT before we move him out of resus, and then we'll need a blood gas to determine if he's taken anything. Dr Hardy, Sister Freeman, with me please. Could you check his medical notes for any allergies, and let CT know we'll be on our way up shortly?" Zoe requests while helping to manoeuvre Lofty's trolley next to an empty bed in resus. She picks up the patient notes board, documenting Lofty's time of arrival and initial obs.

"Taken?" Ethan queries, stepping to stand at the other side of the bed. "That's a bit out of character, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, he was pretty out of it when we got there, but that could be a head injury. Over on three," Iain explains, sliding the white board under Lofty's back with Dixie's help. "One, two, three."

Lofty cries out, though whether it's from being separated from Dylan's touch or from pain, Dylan isn't sure. All he can do is stand and watch as hands invade Lofty's personal space, prodding and pulling at his clothing and his exposed skin while the nurse becomes slowly more agitated.

When Zoe attempts to unbutton Lofty's shirt, the nurse yells something unintelligible behind the oxygen mask, twisting his torso away with a cry. Zoe places a hand on Lofty's chest in an attempt to keep him still, but Lofty shrinks away with a whine, pushing himself into the bed and away from prying hands.

"Lofty, you're hurt and I need to see your chest to know how badly," Zoe explains slowly and clearly, resuming her unbuttoning. Lofty yells loudly, thrashing on the bed. His fists fly wildly at his side, searching for Dylan.

Instead, Lofty's right fist connects with Ethan's nose with a sickening crack, sending the registrar reeling backwards with a hand pressed to his nose.

"Ethan!" Rita exclaims as she walks through the resus doors. Ethan straightens up, shaking his head, not wanting to cause more of a fuss as blood drips from his nostrils.

"Go and clean him up," Zoe instructs, dismissing the pair.

Lofty's eyes look horrified as he makes eye contact with Dylan. His hands come up again as a terrified whine escapes his throat, though this time they shield his face in a protective manner. Zoe flashes a concerned look at Dylan, lost as to what to do until the nurse calms down. Lofty continues to thrash on the bed, this time attacking the restraints holding his neck in place.

Dylan steps forward, intercepting one of Lofty's flying fists with his own hands. He presses Lofty's fist to his chest, holding it stead.

"Ben," Dylan starts firmly. "Listen to me- no, listen. I'm here. Can you feel this?" he asks, tapping Lofty's fist against his chest. "Focus on that. Focus on- that's right. Okay… good."

Zoe watches with admiration as Lofty slowly settles, his eyes dropping closed as the exhaustion of the night finally hits.

"Lofty, is it okay for me to examine your chest now?" Zoe asks, careful to keep her voice quiet. Lofty tries to nod, but his head is too tightly secured in place. His lips move in an attempt to speak, but no sound emerges. Frustrated tears spring to his eyes.

"Not to worry, you've had quite a shock and we don't expect you to talk just yet," Dylan assures. "Squeeze my hand once for yes: is it okay for Zoe to examine your chest now?"

Dylan waits a moment, but then he feels it. One feeble, shaky squeeze.

He nods at Zoe.

Zoe moves slowly, wary of frightening Lofty more. She hadn't realised how scared Lofty was, but the events of the evening had clearly been a lot more traumatic than she'd originally expected. She slowly unbuttons Lofty's shirt, pushing the fabric aside when she reaches the top.

Dylan's heart sinks when he sees what lies beneath.

"Ben," Dylan starts after a moment, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Has someone been hurting you?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to_ _ **TrekkieL, Tanith Panic**_ _, and_ _ **Hades Lord of the Dead**_ _for the reviews!_

 _"_ _Ben," Dylan starts after a moment, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Has someone been hurting you?"_

Lofty's eyes squeeze shut, his expression contorting into one of such pain that Zoe has to look away. Dylan feels his heart sink further as Lofty begins to cry harsh, rasping sobs that force their way out of Lofty's throat. Dylan, still holding Lofty's hand, squeezes it gently, silently telling the younger man he's safe while he takes in the canvas of bruises painting Lofty's chest, noting with a dull pain that they seem to range from months old to fresh and new.

Zoe pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. "Okay. Lofty, I'm going to have to examine your chest now. Squeeze Dr Keogh's hand if it hurts, okay? We'll stop if you need to."

Lofty's grip on Dylan's hand tenses as soon as Zoe's fingers come into contact with his chest. Dylan watches as Lofty winces his way through the examination, watches as the younger man's brows knit in discomfort.

After what seems like an eternity, Zoe finishes the exam.

"Zoe? CT's ready when you are," Rita announces quietly, popping her head through the resus doors. "Oh, and Ethan's alright. It's not broken."

"Alright, thank you Rita," Zoe nods, peeling off her gloves. A porter walks in, ready to take Lofty to the CT scan, and Dylan is secretly thankful Max is off shift.

As they begin wheeling Lofty, Dylan notices his eyes drooping.

"Ben? Stay awake until we've done the CT, please," Dylan asks quietly, resuming his grip on Lofty's hand. Lofty stifles a yawn, eyes blinking sluggishly in the bright lights, and Dylan can tell he's making an effort at staying awake.

The scan takes moments, and it isn't long before Lofty is being wheeled back to resus. Lofty's eyes slide shut again mid journey, and Dylan doesn't have the heart to request he keeps them open.

"Lofty?" Zoe calls once he's settled back into resus.

"I think he's just fallen asleep," Dylan interjects quickly, reluctant to wake up the peacefully sleeping young man. "His obs are fine. We'll wake him up if there's a change."

"If he's got a head injury…" Zoe starts, trailing off. Even she can't bring herself to wake the exhausted nurse. "Alright. We'll leave him until the results are back. Come on, we both need a coffee."

Dylan doesn't want to leave Lofty on his own. Zoe catches his worried expression.

"You're going to need to be by his side from the moment he wakes up, Dylan. He trusts you. We've got a long night ahead of us, so if we're going to do anything, it has to be now. Come on; we'll get a coffee and come straight back if he wakes up."

Reluctant though he is to admit it, Zoe is right, and he nods, wiping a hand tiredly over his face. He follows Zoe out of resus, throwing one last glance over his shoulder at Lofty's sleeping form.

Zoe asks Rita to keep an eye on Lofty, giving strict instructions to fetch the pair of them if anything changes. Dylan and Zoe settle on the bench outside the ED with their coffees, letting the cool air surround them.

"What do we do?" Dylan asks after a while, breaking the silence. "Those bruises… they're clearly indicative of prolonged abuse."

Zoe sighs. "We talk to him. _You_ talk to him. He came to you when he was hurt, so he clearly wants you to help."

"I don't know if I can," Dylan admits, twisting his hands nervously.

"Were you two together- before he left?" Zoe asks suddenly.

Dylan hesitates for a moment, taking a sip of his coffee. He debates how much he should give away, for Ben's sake, but eventually decides that Zoe will find out anyway.

"Yes," he says quietly. "For about a month. But then everything happened, and he felt he had to leave Holby, and I never saw him again. He phoned, at first, but then he got another boyfriend and the calls soon stopped."

Zoe smiles sympathetically, finishing her coffee. "I would never have put you two together. I had my suspicions, actually, but I wasn't even sure if he was gay."

Dylan is about to correct her, tell her that, actually, Lofty is bi, when an out-of-breath Rita emerges from the ED.

"He's woken up," she pants, shaking her head. "He's not happy."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to_ ** _TrekkieL, Tanith Panic, Hades Lord of the Dead, Georgy-Girl_** _and_ ** _112_** _for the reviews!_

 _"He's woken up," Rita pants, shaking her head. "He's not happy._

Dylan stands up immediately, taking off into the ED, leaving his coffee behind. Zoe jogs after him.

"Oh, Zoe!" Rita calls, causing the consultant to stop and turn. "His CT was fine. All clear."

"Thanks Rita," Zoe acknowledges before turning and continuing on to resus.

Zoe hears Lofty before she sees him. A few metres from resus, she can hear frustrated cries, and the sounds of struggling. She pushes the resus door open and sees Lofty pulling at his head restraints, legs kicking helplessly against the white sheets and torso twisting.

"He doesn't like being held down," Dylan says helplessly as he holds Lofty's oxygen mask in place over his mouth and nose, looking to Zoe for what to do.

"His CT was all clear so we can remove the collar and blocks," Zoe says, striding forward to take the foam away from either side of Lofty's head. However, she's stopped before she can take them away by Lofty's defensive fists flailing either side of him.

"Dylan," Zoe breathes, dodging a punch. "I can't do anything until he's calmed down."

"Alright," Dylan says, then again, quieter. "Alright. Ben? Look at me. Look at me, Ben, come on. Good. That's it, that's it. I'm here, okay? You have to calm down. Nobody is going to hurt you here. You're safe. You're safe."

Zoe watches as Dylan reels off support, relieved to see Lofty slowly calming as Dylan's voice steadily lowers in volume. After a few minutes, Lofty stops his thrashing, lying still but trembling on the bed. Dylan takes one of his hands, carefully pressing it against his chest in the now familiar calming gesture.

"Zoe's going to take off your collar now," Dylan announces quietly, looking up at Zoe who begins to do exactly that. Lofty visibly relaxes as he's given some space again, rolling his neck before turning his head to look at Dylan.

"S'rry," he mumbles, eyes closing in shame.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," Zoe comforts gently when Dylan seems too pained to speak.

"You've been very brave," Dylan states eventually, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "We're going to look after you now."

"Are you hurting anywhere, Lofty?" Zoe asks, waiting patiently for a response.

"Abd'men," Lofty breathes behind his mask.

"Okay, I'm going to need to take a closer look. Is that okay?" Zoe questions.

On Lofty's nod, Zoe pulls on a pair of latex gloves and begins pressing around Lofty's abdomen, watching for his reactions. She comes across a particularly purple looking patch of bruises and reluctantly presses down, removing her hands immediately when Lofty cries out in pain, his grip on Dylan's hand tightening.

"Okay, it doesn't feel too bad, but I'm going to need to do a FAST scan just in case you're bleeding internally. I'll go and get Rita."

Zoe goes to find Rita, leaving Dylan alone with Lofty in the unusually empty resus. Dylan sighs, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. Lofty watches him with sleepy eyes, blinking lethargically every so often.

Rita and Zoe return promptly with the FAST scanner, and Dylan steps back, though he maintains his grip on Lofty's hand. Rita either doesn't notice or doesn't care, simply helping Zoe perform the scan.

"Right… I can't detect any free fluid in the abdomen, so that's good. Nothing seems to be too badly damaged… Dylan? Would you like to take a look?"

Dylan nods, thankful that Zoe is in charge as she understands his need to check and double check. Dylan agrees that the scan looks normal, and nods his approval wordlessly, handing the screen to Rita.

"Alright, Lofty, you don't seem to have done any internal damage, so you're just going to be badly bruised for a while. We can give you the pain relief as and when you need it."

At the mention of pain relief, Lofty's eyes widen. He turns his head towards Dylan.

"Nn..n'drugs," he slurs, eyes pleading. "P-please."

Dylan, Rita and Lofty share concerned looks.

"When was the last time you had a proper night's sleep, Lofty?" Rita asks, tone soft and non-threatening.

Lofty casts his eyes down, cheeks colouring. "I…I d'n know," he admits.

"Why don't you get some sleep now, alright? We'll stay by your side, and we'll be here when you wake up," Rita encourages. Lofty nods, closing his eyes as Rita changes the head of the bed so he's lying flat. It's only a matter of moments before Lofty falls asleep, out like a light as the steady beep of the monitor beside him slows.

"No drugs," Rita repeats thoughtfully, looking up from the pale man on the bed. "You don't think he started taking stuff when he left, do you?"

An uncomfortable weight settles in Dylan's chest. He knows there's more to it than that, there has to be. He thinks back to previous patients he's had, trying to categorize the symptoms Ben has been displaying.

"I don't think we can rule out the possibility of forced substance abuse at this stage. He's been physically hurt, that much we can see, and it's not unheard of for abusers to force their victims-."

"Ben isn't a victim," Dylan interjects, spitting the word.

"Yes, he is," Zoe says softly. "I know he's a friend, but right now he needs us to be doctors and nurses, and it's our job to find out what's been happening."

Dylan deflates, the fight leaving him as he realizes Zoe is right. "There's no point in speculating. Let's get him to AAU and let him have a good rest, and we can talk to him when he's a bit less out of it."

The trio wheel Lofty carefully through to the quieter area of the ED, Dylan keeping his eyes trained on Lofty's supine form. A million different scenarios play through his head of how the younger man could have been hurt, scenes flicking through his mind like a compilation movie, each possibility worse than the last.

"Right now isn't strictly visiting hours, but I don't think anyone will try to move you on if you decide to stay," Zoe informs Dylan once Lofty is situated in his own room in AAU. "But I do think it might be an idea to go home and get changed, and maybe bring some spare pyjamas or clothes for Lofty for when he wakes up."

Dylan nods his thanks, wordlessly taking a seat beside Ben's bed as Zoe leaves the room. Ben looks so peaceful here, curls covering his eyes, dark eyelashes standing out in stark contrast to his porcelain skin. Without thinking, Dylan reaches a hand forward and brushes away the curls on his forehead, resting his hand there for a moment before pulling away reluctantly.

The minutes begin to tick by, morphing into hours. After two hours of watching Ben, Dylan feels himself nodding off and decides to make himself more comfortable on the low green armchair. The material is shiny and the exposed skin at his hip where his shirt has become untucked sticks to it uncomfortably, but he eventually manages to find an acceptable position to kip in. It isn't long before he's asleep, snoring lightly in the darkened room.


	4. Chapter 4

Some time later, Dylan awakes.

It takes him a moment to get his bearings, and to realise the hard material digging into the back of his neck is the armrest of the chair, and that his legs are dangling lazily over the side, leaving him sprawled out like a drunk on a street corner. He straightens himself up, wincing as he feels a pull in his neck, only to be struck with the strange feeling that he's being watched.

Lofty is sat up on the bed, watching him. A small, tentative grin plays on the curly-haired man's lips, and a single raised eyebrow shows his evident amusement at the situation.

"You're awake," Dylan says dumbly, his post-sleep haze disallowing any real coherent thought.

"So are you," Lofty shoots back evenly, clearly enjoying Dylan's sleepy state.

"What time is it?" Dylan asks.

"I don't know, but Zoe came in to check on me a little while ago and said to tell you she's going home," Lofty responds.

"Oh," Dylan says simply, realizing that it must be early morning. Then, all at once, he remembers why he's there. He looks up, taking a proper look at Lofty for the first time. The light is back in his eyes, and there's a little more colour in his cheeks now. He looks surprisingly… happy, considering the circumstances.

"How are you feeling?" Dylan asks, standing up to have a flick through the chart hanging off the end of the bed.

"Better," Lofty nods, shuffling awkwardly as he watches Dylan scrutinize the notes. "Still a bit sore, but that's nothing new," he laughs, but the attempted joke falls flat as Dylan moves his piercing gaze towards Lofty himself.

"Ben…" Dylan starts, eyes darting uncomfortably. "We need to talk. About what's been happening to you."

Lofty looks down, cheeks colouring. Dylan feels sympathy tugging at his heart, knowing how awful it is to be on the receiving end of unwanted sympathy. This is the last conversation he'd ever want to have with his friend.

"We don't have to do it now," Dylan reassures quickly. "We can do it whenever you like. We can wait until you've been discharged if you want, but you do need to talk to someone, and I'm happy for that someone to be me, if you are."

"Uh, that's the thing," Lofty says, looking up awkwardly. "I don't actually have somewhere to be discharged to."

"Ah. Yes," Dylan stammers. He wants to invite Lofty to move in with him again, to go back to the way things were for that blissful month before everything fell down around them, but he doesn't want to cross a line or take advantage of the other man in such a vulnerable position.

Screw it, Dylan decides. Bite the bullet.

"There is always the sofa bed on the boat," he says. "I'm sure Dervla would be glad to have you back."

Lofty grins a little, as though he'd been waiting for Dylan to ask. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble. Just until I get back on my feet."

"Until you get back on your feet," Dylan agrees, though he'd really like the fixture to be a permanent one. "I suppose I should go and get a change of clothes for both of us; you must be freezing in that gown."

"Yeah," Lofty says, a sudden uneasiness in his eyes.

"Will you be alright on your own?" Dylan asks, cottoning on.

"Just a little- nervous, on my own," he explains, stammering a little. Dylan notes the sudden paleness of the nurse's complexion with alarm, and the way his entire stance has closed up protectively. _Has the mere idea of being left alone brought this on?_ Dylan wonders.

"I'll stay, then," Dylan decides. Lofty looks like he's about to protest, to say he doesn't need a babysitter, but Dylan ignores him, busying himself with tucking his shirt back in before taking his seat again. "Would you like to talk about what happened?"

Lofty looks away, torn. He knows he'll have to tell someone at some point, but the idea of vocalizing his experiences makes it all seem too real. He'd been in denial, really, up until this point. He'd told himself that it was nothing serious, that he could handle it, and that it wouldn't escalate any further. But then he'd ended up here, in a hospital bed, with Dylan's concerned gaze watching his every move. He takes a deep breath before nodding, swallowing dryly. "It might, um- I might take a while?" he warns, the statement coming out as more of a question.

"Go ahead," Dylan says openly, leaning back making his posture as non-threatening as possible. "In your own time."


	5. Chapter 5

_"_ _Go ahead," Dylan says openly, leaning back making his posture as non-threatening as possible. "In your own time."_

"So, you- you know when I went away, I got a… a boyfriend," Lofty chokes on the word, wincing slightly. "He, um- he took me in. When I first left."

"Alright," Dylan prompts carefully.

"I was a mess, really," Lofty laughs mirthlessly, scoffing, "I thought I could just, just get over what happened here, but I didn't really deal with it. I was having nightmares, about Diane, about the lift. It had been so long since I'd had a proper night's sleep and I was on the verge of collapse for about a week. And that's when Adam came into my life."

Lofty takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut like he deeply regrets what he's about to say. "He was a mate, when I was in uni. It was a surprise and a coincidence, seeing him, it'd been ages. I was at the bar in a pub and he came over and just started talking and bought me a couple of drinks, and then he, he kissed me and I didn't pull away, I should have pulled away," he stutters, and Dylan notices with alarm that his breathing rate has increased considerably. "I was just so lost, and I clung to him because I didn't have anything else."

 _You could have had me_ , Dylan wants to say. _You can always have me_.

"I woke up in his house the next day. I don't even remember where I'd been staying before him, it was like my whole world had flipped and he was all that mattered. We got drunk lots, and he- did things, and I didn't want him to but I didn't have the energy to refuse and it just spiralled before I even had the chance to notice what was happening."

Dylan sits, speechless at what Lofty is implying.

"He shut me off from the world- that's why I stopped responding to you; he wouldn't let me. He controlled me- what I had to eat, when I slept, when I woke up. It didn't feel like I existed. I was just floating. He'd hit me, but it barely registered. Sometimes I'd wake up with a new patch of bruises, but he'd never say anything about it."

Dylan waits for the information to sink in before he sits forward a little, aware there's one topic they haven't covered.

"Before," he starts gently, quietly, "when you were with Zoe and Rita and I, you asked us not to give you any morphine."

Lofty curls in on himself further, as though he would do anything for the thin blanket he's wrapped in to swallow him whole.

"It's stupid really, I'm probably just being stupid," he mutters, shaking his head as tears form.

"Not if it's hurting you," Dylan counters gently.

"I don't know why, but I just have this… this feeling, that he might have. Drugged, um, a few times, drugged me."

Sympathy floods through Dylan as he watches Lofty's speech fail. "Okay," he says calmly, though the last thing he feels right now is calm.

"I don't know _what_ makes me think that, I'm probably just being paranoid, but I just got the feeling… I'd wake up in the morning and have no recollection of the night before," he explains, trying desperately to justify his concerns to Dylan.

"Do you remember making your way to my boat?" Dylan asks. He's aware he should keep Lofty talking while he's willing, or he might never find out what happened.

Lofty's expression screws up into one of deep concentration, and Dylan can tell he's trying valiantly to remember the journey to Dylan's houseboat. After a while, he exhales like he'd been holding his breath, and shakes his head sadly.

"I know I was drunk. He, um. G-gave me bottles and got mad when I wouldn't. D-drink them."

His speech is far from fluid, halting randomly as though he has to physically push the words out of his mouth.

"I remember leaving and not really, not really knowing where I was going. I hadn't left his house for… however long I was there for, I don't know… I didn't even know if I was still in Holby. Everything was washed out and blurry and I really don't know how I managed to make it to you."

Dylan sighs a long, heavy breath. When Ben had arrived, battered and confused, Dylan hadn't expected it to be nearly this bad. Ben has clearly been through hell for the past three months, tortured to the point where he doesn't even know his own mind anymore.

"I didn't want this," Lofty whispers, desperate eyes meeting Dylan's. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Dylan feels all the breath leave him all at once. "Of course," he says quietly, contemplating whether physical comfort would be welcomed right now. He's too deep in thought to notice the tears trailing down Lofty's cheeks. It's not until Lofty starts speaking that Dylan realizes he's been staring into space, and by then it's too late.

"I'm sorry," Lofty whimpers, drawing his knees up to his chest and hiding his face behind them. "I'm sorry, I'm so- I'm so s-sorry."

"Ben," Dylan blurts in alarm, standing up and putting a firm hand on Lofty's shoulder, at a loss as to what to do as Lofty rocks himself backwards and forwards, muttering under his breath between loud, gasping sobs.

"You're okay," Dylan tries, though he doesn't even know if Lofty can hear him. "You're safe, I've got you."

Lofty looks up for a moment, his eyes briefly meeting Dylan's. He leans into Dylan's touch, and Dylan takes it as an invitation. He clicks the metal bed side down and sits on the edge of the bed, letting Lofty lean into his side.

"I'm sorry," Lofty sniffs after a moment, moving away from Dylan and swiping at his eyes with his arm.

"You don't have to apologize," Dylan mutters, angry at whoever planted the idea in Lofty's brain that this is his fault. "You never have to apologize. You've been through a lot. You're allowed to break down."

Lofty shrugs like he doesn't really believe what Dylan's saying but is too tired to argue.

"It's going to be a long road," Dylan continues. "But we'll do it- together. Together, all the way."

Lofty nods. _Together all the way._


	6. Chapter 6

After the initial awkward few days, Lofty settles back into life on Dylan's boat relatively quickly.

The two slot together perfectly, and Dylan is reminded of why he'd fallen for Lofty so quickly in the first place. They're like two halves of a whole, and it just works.

"Ben, I'm going to the shop, is there anything you want?" Dylan calls from the living room through to the bedroom where Lofty is sat reading the newspaper.

"No, thanks," his reply echoes through the boat.

Dylan hesitates for a moment, before asking a question he knows the answer to.

"Do you want to come?" he questions, wary to keep his tone light.

After a moment, Lofty responds, voice wavering slightly. "Not today."

Dylan sighs. It has been eleven days since Lofty had returned from the hospital, and he hasn't once left the safety of the boat. Dylan asks if Lofty wishes to accompany him every time he leaves the boat, but Lofty's answer is always the same. It must be hard, and Dylan empathizes, but he's very aware that if Lofty doesn't get over his fear of being outdoors sooner rather than later, it could lead to some serious problems further down the line.

Deciding he's going to have to brave this conversation eventually, Dylan pushes the door to the bedroom open and steps inside.

"Ben," he starts, sitting on the edge of the bed. Lofty eyes him nervously. "I understand that you're afraid, and after everything you endured, you have every right to be, but you need to leave the boat eventually."

Lofty doesn't look up from the newspaper he's reading, suddenly very invested in the council's plans for a new housing estate.

"I'd like you to walk Dervla with me later today," Dylan proposes, his heart squeezing with guilt when Lofty's breath hitches almost imperceptibly. "I'll be right by your side the whole time, and if you need to come home then we'll do that straight away. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable, but you can't spend the rest of your life inside."

Lofty looks like he might refuse, and if he does there's nothing Dylan can do to stop him, really. But after a few moments, he nods tentatively. "Can we not go too far?"

Dylan smiles. Lofty, despite his demeanour, is one of the bravest people Dylan knows. "We'll only be at the park. We'll probably still be able to see the boat."

For the rest of the day, Lofty worries about the walk. He doesn't know why, but the thought of abandoning the protection of the houseboat leaves him feeling wobbly, like his carefully constructed semblance of calm and ease might fall away at any moment. He knows Dylan means best for him, but Lofty doesn't think he understands how difficult it is to get his feet to carry him anywhere near the door of the boat, let alone onto the pavement outside.

Things have been calm since he's been back, but he knows it's only a matter of time before he breaks. Dylan would say Lofty's dealing with everything very well, but Lofty himself would disagree and say he's not dealing with it at all. He's pushed it all aside in order to get on with his life with Dylan, but there are certain moments that make everything impossible to forget. All it takes is for Dylan to be gone for five minutes longer than he'd promised, or Dylan to touch him in the wrong way, or to lose his temper with Dervla (he never does it with Ben), and Lofty is back there, floods of memory attacking his senses until he's not entirely sure where he is. When this happens, Lofty makes sure he's alone, or pretending to be asleep, or in the bathroom. Dylan doesn't need to know he's afraid.

When Dervla begins scratching at the door when the evening arrives, a sense of foreboding fills Lofty. His chest tightens uncomfortably and maybe he can convince Dylan to postpone their outing to tomorrow.

Dylan must catch the way his hands begin to shake, because he's at Lofty's side in an instant, sitting next to him on the sofa.

"Just ten minutes," Dylan promises. He fetches two pairs of shoes, watching with sympathy as Lofty struggles to tie the laces on his. Dylan doesn't want to do it for him, aware he doesn't need to be coddled, but the sight is painful to watch as Lofty gets increasingly frustrated as the laces refuse to hold.

"Okay, you're okay," Dylan reassures hastily when Lofty sits back, tears in his eyes. He can't even tie his own shoelaces, for goodness sake. What kind of grown man struggles with that?

Dylan ties the laces into bows effortlessly, not mentioning the way Lofty scrubs at his eyes above him.

"Let's go, then," Dylan says, and Lofty looks at him as if he'd said 'let's go to our immediate deaths' instead. He stands but doesn't move, lingering by the sofa.

"Ben," Dylan says gently, taking his hand. "I understand you're very high-strung and probably a bit overwhelmed, and that's okay, but we need to get going."

Lofty bites the bullet, nodding. He follows Dylan to the door and then out of it, ignoring the way his legs go weak as soon as they're outdoors. Dervla pulls impatiently on the lead as Dylan locks the door and takes Lofty's hand again, squeezing reassuringly.

The rest of the walk, though utterly terrifying, is reasonably uneventful. Lofty's chest feels tight, and he's certain that if Dylan were to let go of his hand he'd be bolting straight back to the houseboat. But Dylan's grip remains firm and Lofty manages to stay outside for the agreed ten minutes.

"That was good," Dylan comments as they arrive back in the boat. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Lofty lies, shoving his hands in the pockets of his.

"We'll do it again tomorrow, for a little longer," Dylan says, filling Dervla's water bowl.

Lofty sighs. Tomorrow is another day.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ben, I'm home!" Dylan calls as he steps around Dervla into the boat.

"Hi," Lofty's face emerges from the bedroom, a small smile situated on his lips. "Good shift?"

Dylan sets his bag down, contemplating what to say. "Busy," he settles on, gesturing for Ben to join him. He hesitates for a second, before deciding to risk it. "We need a chat."

Lofty's expression turns from happy to anxious in a split-second. Dylan gets comfortable on the sofa, waiting for Lofty to take the armchair before he starts speaking.

"I've been talking to Rita," Dylan starts hesitantly, watching for Lofty's reactions. He doesn't miss the way Lofty winces at the mere mention of someone outside of their little bubble. "She says that, when you're ready, she'd be happy for you to return to the ED as a band five nurse."

Lofty looks up, worry and fear showing plainly in his eyes. "I don't want to."

Dylan is momentarily taken aback. He'd expected Lofty to be hesitant, but he hadn't expected an outright refusal. He pushes on.

"I know you're not ready just yet, but I would like you to return to work with me within the next few months, even if it's just for one day a week at first. You can't hide away forever, and I think returning to the ED might be what you need."

Lofty feels his stomach churn at the idea of returning to the place. Everything about the concept is terrifying; he'll be out in the open, unprotected, he won't have anywhere private to be should he need a break, and the ghosts of what happened before he left will still be there, reminding him every second of everything he's done wrong.

"You have to move on," Dylan says quietly. Lofty knows that, of course he does, but it doesn't mean he wants to, so he stays resolutely silent.

Dylan lets out a long sigh, but ultimately drops the matter for the evening. There's no point in trying to force anything on Ben, not since he'd become so adverse to anyone trying to control him. A result of the abuse, Dylan has no doubt. Previously, Lofty had always went along with Dylan's suggestions and ideas, but now he digs his heels in whenever Dylan tries to plan or prepare anything for his future. But, after everything that happened last time Dylan pushed Lofty to do something, Dylan supposes the man has every right to reject Dylan's ideas altogether.

When the pair go to bed later that evening, Lofty is unusually clingy. Originally, Dylan had set up the sofabed each night for Lofty to sleep on, but it hadn't taken long for the two to start sharing a bed again. But Lofty rarely ever sought physical comfort anymore, and usually shied away from being held or touched. Tonight, he's barely let go of Dylan once, and he had even followed Dylan to the kitchen every time he went for a refill of his drink.

Dylan instinctually wraps his arms around Lofty as soon as they're under the covers, and Lofty, for a change, snuggles into Dylan's bare chest and tangles their legs together. Dylan can't help but be a little confused by the sudden change in behaviour, but he puts it down to Lofty experimenting with readjusting to life as a healthy couple.

Lofty settles himself down, trying to stop his heart from pounding quite so uncomfortably. He's been nervous all evening, and there's something unsteady brewing beneath his skin. He concentrates on the feel of Dylan's bare skin under his fingertips, warm and soft, and tells himself to calm down and try to get some sleep.

When Dylan falls asleep, Lofty feels his worry elevate further. He can't quell the feeling of being alone that creeps up his spine, leaving a tingle in its wake. He suddenly feels claustrophobic under the covers, so he kicks them off and sits up, grateful when Dylan barely stirs.

 _You're okay, he's not here_ , Lofty tries to convince himself. The dark makes everything seem slightly more threatening, so he makes the decision to make his way to the bathroom where he can put the light on and at least see what's going on.

He clicks the light on and winces when the air fan comes on as well, the noise probably loud enough to wake Dylan if Lofty isn't careful. He grips the edge of the sink and takes a few deep breaths, focusing on nothing but sending air into his lungs. _There's no need to panic. Everything is under control._

A wave of nausea passes over him, and it's all Lofty can do to remain upright, his knuckles turning as white as the sink they're grasping at. The fan seems almost deafening now, pushing at his senses and causing his thoughts to trip over each other in a disorientated stream.

"Ben?" Dylan's voice, thick with sleep, carries into the bathroom, and Lofty screws his eyes shut desperately. _Not now_ , he thinks, _please not now_.

Lofty jumps when he feels Dylan's hand settle on his bare back. It's startlingly cold in comparison to Lofty's skin, despite the fact that Lofty is shirtless in the cool bathroom and Dylan has been tucked up in bed for the past hour. Lofty doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't want to see the inevitable worry in Dylan's.

"Breathe, Ben," Dylan coaxes gently, rubbing soothing circles into Lofty's hot skin.

Lofty tries his best, focusing on keeping a somewhat steady flow of air going into and out of his lungs. The dizziness subsides eventually, and Lofty loosens his grip on the sink only marginally, straightening up a little.

"I'm fine," Lofty says as he opens his eyes. He catches Dylan's face behind him in the mirror above the sink, and feels guilty when he sees the obvious worry and fear on Dylan's expression.

"Are you sure?" Dylan asks uncertainly, taking a step back to give the man some space. Lofty nods shakily, sweat soaked curls bouncing slightly off his forehead.

"Has this happened before? While I'm asleep?" Dylan asks, taking Lofty's hand and leading him back to the bedroom, where the light is now turned on. Lofty nods. There's no point in denying it any longer.

Dylan feels his heart break for the broken man sat next to him on the bed. He should have expected this. Of course it had been too good to be true, Lofty not suffering in the slightest from the repercussions of his time away.

"I shouldn't have suggested you come back to work," Dylan admits quietly, aware that he must have been at least part of the cause of this. "I'm sorry. You're not nearly ready yet. You should focus on getting yourself better before you have to think about going back."

Lofty leans tentatively into Dylan's side, resting his head on Dylan's shoulder.

"I don't know why I'm so afraid all the time," Lofty whispers, as though he's afraid to voice it. "Every little thing convinces me I'm about to get hurt, even though I know it's not true. And then my heart starts pounding and my chest feels like it's collapsing and I struggle to convince myself I'm not back there."

"I can help you," Dylan promises quietly. "But you've got to start letting me in for you to start healing. I don't care if it's scary or weird or anything that you're worried I might think it is. I just want to help."

Lofty feels his heart finally start to calm down, the noise behind his eyes quietening down significantly.

Dylan sits up a little, moving to get back under the covers. "Come on, we'll talk more about this when we're not both tired."


	8. Chapter 8

Slowly, ever so slowly, Lofty starts to open up.

It's painstakingly obvious, now, that Lofty is struggling a lot more than Dylan had initially thought. It seems that the night in the bathroom had been the one to open the floodgates and let all of Lofty's emotions out, as only now does he seem to be displaying any negative emotions at all.

More and more frequently, Dylan has to drag the man out of his mind when something so small, so negligible, reminds Lofty of his time away. More than once, Dylan has found Lofty shaking on the floor, lips forming unintelligible sounds. It's horrible, but Dylan tells himself it has to get worse before it can get better.

"Ben," Dylan says as he walks from the bedroom into the lounge where Lofty is sitting. "I'm going out to the supermarket. Would you like to come?"

Lofty looks up from his phone, his heart tugging anxiously. He doesn't particularly want to go out in public today, but he definitely doesn't want to be left alone either. He tosses the two options in his head until eventually the separation anxiety wins out and he nods, much to Dylan's surprise.

"Get your shoes on, then," Dylan does the same, tying his laces into secure double-knots, wincing when Lofty fumbles with his clumsily even if he does eventually manage the task.

The walk to the nearby Tesco is short, but Lofty lags behind slightly, his hand sweating in Dylan's grip. He wills himself to calm down and just enjoy the walk in the cool air, and tries to draw strength from Dylan's presence. He takes a few breaths and smiles loosely when Dylan smiles at him, feeling some tiny degree of confidence.

The first twenty minutes of browsing pass by with little fuss, Dylan idly scrolling through the shopping list on his phone and having Lofty keep charge of the trolley. Lofty is confronted with a whole new barrage of sights and noises and smells, and he feels his heartrate slowly tick upwards. He contemplates asking Dylan if they can go home as he feels his breath come quicker, but he refuses to be a burden to the one person who still loves him. He will tough this one out.

But then there's something, an undetectable noise or change in sound or something, and Lofty feels his breath catch before suddenly he can't breathe anymore.

His hand scrabbles for Dylan's on the handle of the trolley, trying desperately to communicate without his voice. Dylan swears under his breath and Lofty shrinks away.

"Ben," Dylan's voice is low and quiet, careful to draw no attention. "Talk to me. What's happening?"

"He's here," Lofty chokes out, his vision tunnelling. He can hear his heart hammering in his ears and wonders if Dylan can hear it too.

"You're okay," Dylan breathes, trying to remain under the radar. The last thing Lofty needs is unwanted attention. "You're alright, I've got you. Do you want to get out?"

Lofty nods desperately but finds he can't move, paralysed with fear. Tears gather in his eyes and he squeezes them shut as he grips the trolley and Dylan's fingers firmly.

Dylan raises his hand and applies a gentle pressure to Lofty's lower back, and eventually Lofty finds enough strength to get his feet moving. They're blessedly close to the exit, and Dylan tries his hardest to keep subtle about the fact that he's all but pushing a shaking, crying man through the thin crowds.

As soon as they're outside, Lofty finally breaks, sobs rising and forcing themselves out of his throat. Dylan pulls them into a quiet little alcove away from the people and allows Lofty to cling to him as he chokes on anguished cries. Dylan wraps his arms securely around the younger man's upper body, rubbing gentle grounding circles into the clammy skin under the pale shirt.

"He's not here," Dylan says softly when Lofty's sobs die down into whimpers. "I know it feels like he is, but he isn't, I promise."

"I want to go home," Lofty pleads weakly into Dylan's shoulder, and Dylan feels his heart sink at the pure misery portrayed in his tone. His voice cracks when he next speaks. "Please, I want to go home."

"Of course," Dylan whispers, because how can he deny this man anything?

As soon as they're inside and the door is locked, Lofty whirls around and slams his foot as hard as he can into the wall. Dylan jumps at the sound and Dervla yelps before she scuttles out of the room.

"Ben!" Dylan exclaims as Lofty aims another kick at the wall, fists pounding helplessly at the wallpaper next to his head. Dylan is taken aback, surprised by the sudden fit of rage, and he watches helplessly as Lofty attacks his surroundings.

"Why am I like this?" Lofty cries suddenly, leaning his forehead on the wall briefly before resuming his barrage of attacks. "I hate this! I hate it!"

"Ben, stop this!" Dylan jerks into action and wraps his arms around Lofty's midsection, pulling the thin (God, when did he get so thin?) man away from the wall and towards the sofa. Lofty kicks his legs and a feral sound tears from his throat, until eventually he stops struggling in Dylan's embrace, arms instead coming protectively up to shield his chest.

"What's happening to me?" Lofty gasps, standing up from the sofa and backing away protectively, like he's afraid he might hurt Dylan if he gets too close.

"You're having a panic attack," Dylan informs him rationally. "What you're feeling right now is the fight part of fight or flight. It will go away, I promise. I promise you."

Lofty's left hand scrabbles at his chest before his palm comes to rest above his heart. Dylan gets an idea.

Dylan slides off the edge of the sofa, sitting on the floor, cross-legged. "Sit down," he says, gesturing for Lofty to sit across from him. After a few sceptical seconds, Lofty does as he's told.

"Put your hand on my chest," Dylan instructs. Lofty raises a shaking palm and presses it tentatively against Dylan's ribs. Dylan presses his own hand atop Lofty's, securing the position.

"You can feel my heart," Dylan says, matter of fact. Lofty nods. "I want you to close your eyes and think about nothing else. Just my heart under your fingers. You can open your eyes as soon as you're ready. Take your time."

Lofty closes his eyes, and Dylan notes with great relief that Lofty's breathing begins to even out after around three minutes. At the five minute mark, Lofty opens his eyes with a yawn, looking sheepishly up at Dylan.

"Better?" Dylan asks quietly.

"Better," Lofty confirms. "I thought he was there."

"I know," Dylan says sadly. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry about your wall," Lofty apologizes quietly.

"It says you're forgiven," Dylan teases. Lofty chuckles.

"I've been thinking," Lofty starts, uncrossing his legs and stretching them out in front of himself. "I think I'd like to return to work next month."

"Oh," Dylan raises his eyebrows. He hadn't expected that to come so soon. "Any reason?"

"I can't spend the rest of my life sitting around worrying all the time. If I have something to take my mind off it, maybe it'll go away quicker."

Dylan can't argue with that logic, or the sudden increase in confidence.

"Only for a bit at a time, though," Lofty is quick to insist. "Maybe half shifts first, and I could shadow you until I get used to being back around people again."

"Of course you could," Dylan smiles, genuinely happy to see Lofty getting back on his feet. "I'll speak with Rita and see what she thinks will be best."


	9. Chapter 9

When Dylan returns to work the next day, he waits until he's on his break before searching for Rita. He's nervous for Lofty, but he's finally decided to get the ball rolling again and return to work, and Dylan absolutely refuses to get in the way of that.

"Dylan," Rita calls when she spots him, and _ah_ , Dylan thinks, _at least I won't have to look for her_.

"Rita," he says pleasantly, gesturing to the nurses' office.

"Have you asked Lofty about coming back yet?" Rita asks straight away, as if she's read Dylan's mind.

"I have, actually, and he says he'll be ready to return within the month."

"Oh, that's great news!" Rita's smile is large and genuine, and Dylan finds himself grateful that Lofty has such a supportive network of friends waiting for him.

"He'd prefer to work half-shifts for the first stretch, and ideally we'd like to be on at the same time so I can be there should anything go wrong," Dylan lays out the conditions of Lofty's return and, to his relief, Rita doesn't argue or question it, only takes out a pen and writes what Dylan's saying on a post-it. "He's not really… used to being away from his little bubble, yet, so perhaps he should come in and acclimatise to his the new surroundings one day."

"A day when he's here but not working," Rita says pensively, chewing the end of her pen. "That can be arranged."

"Thank you, Rita," Dylan says sincerely. It feels like a weight off his chest to know that Lofty's voice will be listened to, and he finds himself feeling a new gratitude for the clinical nurse manager.

"I think three weeks on Friday would be a good day to come back- Robyn's in, and think Max probably will be too, so Lofty should be able to say hello and get used to being around his friends again before he officially restarts."

Dylan pulls out his phone and looks at the picture of his rota and finds he's working on that day too. "As good a day as any," he confirms, and Rita circles the date on her calendar with a green felt tip.

"How is he doing, anyway?" she asks.

Dylan waves a hand noncommittally. "He's doing well- has his ups and downs, but he's getting there."

"Right, and how is he really?" she repeats the question, giving Dylan a pointed 'don't give me all that' look. "And I'm not asking as his employer. I'm asking as his friend."

Dylan lets out a long sigh, shaking his head. After a moment, he decides that Rita's too adept at reading emotions for him to hide anything from her. "He's terrified. Of everything and everyone. He panics when we're out in public- can barely be out for half an hour before he's shaking and begging to go back. He hasn't slept a whole night through since he got back, he flinches at loud noises… he has his good days, mind, where he seems happy enough, but one suggestion that he does something outside his comfort zone and… he works himself into a right state, and I just don't know what to do about it most of the time."

Dylan looks down, blushing. He hadn't expected to say all of that, and he feels guilty for making it seem like he blames Lofty when that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Have you considered taking him to see someone?" Rita says thoughtfully. Dylan rubs a palm over his face, shaking his head.

"It never seems like the right time to bring it up. I want him to trust me, and if I suddenly told him I was going to cart him away somewhere to fix him up…" he trails off, not even wanting to think about the betrayal Lofty would undoubtedly feel.

"And have you spoken to anyone about it?" Rita asks, and rolls her eyes when Dylan only looks confused. "You're going through a lot at the minute too, and you don't have the benefit of someone doing everything they can to look after you. You can't do it all alone."

"He looks out for me," Dylan says, "in his own sort of way. I relied on him a lot when I needed someone, and now I'm returning the favour."

"Well just remember that I'm always here for both of you, alright? As is the rest of the ED. Just give us a shout if you need it."

Dylan nods and stands to leave, holding the door open for Rita before pulling it shut. Now he just wants to get home to Lofty and tell him the developments, and the rest of the shift passes by agonizingly slowly.

"Ben!" Dylan calls as he unlocks the door to the houseboat later that evening. "I'm home!"

Lofty appears in the hallway within seconds, smiling happily, custard cream in hand.

"Alright?" Dylan asks.

Lofty nods. "Yeah. Good day?"

Dylan nods, stepping around Dervla after giving her a quick stroke. "I spoke to Rita."

Lofty looks nervous, but not afraid. If anything, he also looks a tiny bit excited. "What did she say?"

"She's happy for you to do half-shifts and she's going to try to put us on together while you get your feet back," Dylan explains. "If you're ready, she'd like you to go in on three weeks on Friday for a re-introduction, and I should imagine you'll be able to do a quick defib recap then as well."

It's only the mention of the defibrillator that causes Lofty's face to fall, but Dylan's glad for the fact that he hadn't run off screaming at the idea that in less than a month he could be back at work.

"Okay," Lofty says, sounding like he's trying to convince himself. "Okay, that should be fine."

"If you're not ready-" Dylan starts, but he's cut off when Lofty raises a hand to silence him.

"I have to be ready. I can't hide away forever. I'm going to have to be brave."

Dylan feels his heart swell with pride. He pulls Lofty forwards for a hug, kissing him gently on the temple before letting him go.

"Are you going to tell the others that I'll be coming back?" Lofty questions, picking at the hem on his jumper.

"Would you like me to?" Dylan asks.

"I don't know. I don't want to surprise them and just turn up, but I don't want you to tell them and have them think I'm ready to see them before I actually am."

"How about I tell them, but make sure they know you'll only be back when you're fully ready?" Dylan suggests.

"That's fine," Lofty nods, feeling like he's about to face up to something much bigger and much more terrifying than himself. But, despite his blip in the supermarket, he feels good right now, and maybe returning to his work and his friends, the things he loves, will help him put the past behind him.


End file.
